Taken
by Blizzard Rose
Summary: Mildred Montag was taken by Beatty the night he discovered books in Montag's house. Only Montag can save her and the society taken by the firemen


**TAKEN **

**A Fahrenheit 451 Fanfic**

*Mildred POV*

It was horror to watch.

The fire consumed around me with its orange. I was almost blinded by the glow, I say. I stopped seeing altogether maybe for a moment as I stared at the blaze. One thing was clear. I had to go or I'd die. The problem was, I was on the second floor. Was I also to die like poor Clarisse? No, I told myself, no.

"Mildred!" I heard my name. No one was near, so who was calling? Then it came to me that the windows were open. I stared at the outside, free of fire. Then I turned just in time to watch the television set ablaze. Surprisingly, I felt no remorse for not saving it. I had to save myself first.

But, as I found, I was being rescued. It was not by Guy, but by someone I'd met before. It was the fire captain. _Oh damn, oh damn_ I think.

"Mildred come with me," he said.

Altogether I stop breathing. I see the fire truck outside. Where the hell was Guy anyway? 

As if reading my mind Beatty (that was his name!) answered me, "He's at the fire station. C'mon." I allowed him to lead me out of the house. I was thrown (that's right, thrown) in the back of the truck. At some point, darkness consumed my eyes

I woke in a dark place. I was lying on cold ground. Yeah, this wasn't exactly how I'd hoped to be rescued from a burning house. I sat up and my eyes adjusted. In that moment, I realized I had not been rescued.

I was to be held hostage instead.

I heard a door open, most likely to where I was being held. I saw a large dog. Or that's what it looked like to me. As it came closer, I saw clearer. I realized it was made of metal, perhaps silver, and its eyes were green. It had the numbers 451 clearly marked on it.

_ They burn at Fahrenheit 451. _

*Faber POV*

Montag was going to lose it. God, it was just like the night poor Clarisse was killed, only worse. I looked at where we were. It wasn't far from the town, it was the outskirts, but still, we may not reach her in time. How did I know this? Because Beatty was after Montag's mind, which to get into, he'd naturally get to Mildred first.

Montag came out of the tent in which he'd slept last night. He took one look at me. "What's going on?"

"Beatty found the books."

"The ones in the house, you mean?"

"Yes."

"So the house is in ashes as we speak?"

"I'd believe so," I said.

"And Mildred? Is she all right?"

"She was captured by Beatty."

"She was _what? _How do you know?"

"You forget I arrived here later than you. I saw the house aflame and a woman was being led out. As I drove to meet you, it struck me that the house was yours."

"And the woman was Mildred!"

"Yes."

"What can we do?" he asked eyeing me.

"You go to the fire station, tell them you're off sick leave, sneak into the under levels and get her."

"Will it work?" he asked.

"I'm not sure."

"We still have to try. Her life depends on it."

"Yes it does."

"What the hell are we doing standing here? Let's go."

*Mildred POV*

The Hound (well what else was I supposed to call him?) kept guarding me. I guess Beatty had put him up to it. His eyes watched me as I simply stared back. He sat, as normal dogs do, and studied me with curious eyes.

"Were you dragged into this too?" I asked, although it was silly.

The Hound looked as if to me like it jerked its head in the form of a nod as if to say _I was, just like everyone else._

"I know how you feel. You feel trapped."

Its eyes studied me.

"You feel like the only way to escape is trough pretend. It drives you to the brink of insanity. It makes you want to not be at all."

The Hound walked closer to me. I was frightened that it might snap at me, but instead, it ducked its head and I touched the metal of its ear softly.

"I've realized you've got to accept reality, otherwise there's no way to change it."

The Hound lay on its side next to me. I lay back, using my coat as a pillow. Then I remembered something. I pulled out an aluminum can from my coat pocket. It wasn't like a soda pop can, but the size of a small soup can. I lay it next to the Hound.

The Hound began to chew away at the can. I smiled and even though it was so dark inside here, I could swear there was a faint light coming from somewhere.

While lost in thought, I drifted. I was tired, hungry and cold. At least I could now say I had a partner to suffer with me.

_They burn at Fahrenheit 451. They burn at Fahrenheit 451. _These words kept coming to mind as I drifted the image of the blaze and I in the middle of it was fresh. It wasn't a memory, by now it was a reoccurring horrid nightmare.

I was nearly asleep, my thoughts slowing, when I heard a door open. I heard quiet footsteps. This surely wasn't Beatty, was it?

"Mildred! Mildred get up!"

*Montag POV*

"Mildred! Mildred, get up!" I said as I entered where she was being held. I knew it well; it was an old storage room, recently turned to a dungeon. She was lying on the floor in the center of the small room, her coat was her pillow. I knelt. "Mildred."

"_They burn at Fahrenheit 451." _This was from Mildred in a small voice.

_Good God, Beatty got to her. I'll kill him_ I thought. Without word, I scooped Mildred up in my arms. Faber had said to get her out and then leave as quickly and quietly as possible.

Light was visible as I ascended up to the main level of the station. No one was in sight as of now. That was good. It meant I had time.

And then I stopped.

Beatty stood in front of me. _How in the hell did he get there?_

"Ah, Montag. I knew you'd return sooner or later."

"Did you know?"

"I believe I did when I made sure word reached you of our guest." He motioned to Mildred's body in my arms.

Her eyes snapped open at this.

"They burn at Fahrenheit 451."

"What Mildred?" I asked.

"Books, the pages char."

"As it should be," Beatty offered a smile.

"Sickening," Mildred said.

"How so?" Beatty challenged her.

"It takes away knowledge of the way things were. When people actually lived!"

He lunged at her and knocked her from my arms. I saw three things happen at once. Mildred was knocked from my arms by Beatty; she was thrown across the room. Then in another split second, Beatty was on the ground himself.

It was my foot that held him there.

*Faber POV*

After Montag left, I sat on the hill. I think he was beginning to realize that something had to be done about our dystopian (yeah good word) society, and it had to be done quickly. I can only hope that he could figure out. I'd already given him all the help I could offer.

I had only one choice if I wanted Montag to carry on what I'd told him.

I had to leave.

I rose and hurriedly started packing up my tent. If I was lucky, I could the next train to St. Louis. Once I had what I needed, I started to descend the hill and walk to the city's train station.

_Faber, I have her_ Montag's voice rang in my ear.

_Well get the hell out before Beatty sees you then._

_The thing is, he already has._

_Then get out or die trying_ I thought back as a final piece of advice.

_Where are you going? _How'd he guess I was to flee to let him take control?

_I've done all I can for you Montag. You alone can end it._

_How?_

At this I could only think of one thing. _Fight fire with fire._

_Thank you Faber, for everything._

_No, thank _you _Montag, for saving society. Give my best to Mildred._

_I will._

I broke the link with Montag. I was right, he could handle things on his own from here. He didn't need me. I'd played my role.

Now it was his time to play his.

I reached the train station and bought a ticket to St. Louis. My train left in twenty minutes. I hope if I ever return here that this city, and the world, would have risen from the charred ashes of modern society.

One thing was certain now: I would return, someday.

*Mildred POV*

I rose from where I was on the floor. My role was not the damsel in distress. I ran over to the other side of the room. There lying on a table was a lighter. It wasn't the size of a normal household fire lighter. This one looked about the size to set an entire house on fire.

_If they burn at Fahrenheit 451, the station should too _I thought.

That was the answer.

Burn it all.

But the thing was, I had no idea how to correctly set a fire of the magnitude this was capable of. I looked at Guy. "Mildred, what are you doing?" he asked. Beatty was on the ground, I noted, held by the force Guy's foot upon his stomach.

There are no words for what I did next. "Here!" I tossed him the lighter, and then took the extinguisher so Beatty had no way to counter the fire he was to perish in.

I raced to the door and let Guy do as he was trained to. I only had one thing left to take care of.

The Hound found me and nudged my leg. "We have to get out, you and me," I said.

Its eyes of emerald looked quizzically at me.

"The firehouse is burning," I said. It understood.

It started to run. The fire had yet to spread from the conference room so the Hound headed out the front door. _Goodbye pal _I thought in a moment of sadness.

The space around me was growing warm, warmer, and just plain hot. That meant the fire was spreading.

And it also meant I had to go.

I looked at the exit the Hound had come through. _Do I wait for Guy or do I go now?_

The fire was drawing nearer. I flashed back to the night my house burned and the blinding hue of orange around me. I knew that I'd left my television in the burning house, it was done to separate me from fantasy and jump head first into reality.

I couldn't leave Guy. He was my husband and I suppose now a hero. Plus I loved him, after all.

I'd wait.

_I'm coming for you; hold on_ his voice echoed in my mind.

I'd trust him.

*Montag POV*

It was a pleasure to burn.

To see what had enslaved me for ten years go up in flames was the happiest sight of my career. And I was the one who had risen to the occasion.

Faber had taught me something in the short time I'd known him. If you didn't stand for anything at all, then you were prone to falling for everything.

The fire raged around the room. I had released Beatty from the hold I'd had on him. The fire took his life easily. I didn't have to kill him after all ; his beloved fire had consumed him. Literally.

I looked over at the extinguisher. No use in taking it. What's done is done. Now I had to go.

Mildred. _I'm coming for you; hold on._

I raced out of the burning room. I ran into the hallway. I saw her by the window of the long corridor. "Mildred!" I called out.

"Guy, we have to go!"

"I know!' Then I realized something: how were we to break the glass of the window in order to jump? Then, an idea went off just like a light bulb.

I took my helmet with the numbers 451 off my head. This was to be my final act of separation. "Get behind me, I don't want you to get hurt by all the glass I'm about to break." She did.

I stepped back, hoping with all my heart this would be enough. I could hear the fire's roar as it drew nearer. I stepped forward with my left foot and hurled the helmet with as much force as I had.

Everything happened slowly then. I heard the shattering sound. Glass came flying at Mildred and me. I threw both our bodies to the floor gently and I covered our heads. I looked up when the only sound I could hear was the roar.

Glass was everywhere. It was around us like a moat, I rose and started to move the glass away to clear a path for us. "Stay there a moment," I said to Mildred.

"May I lift my head? Is it over?"

"Yes," I said as I started to kick away glass from where she lay. Good thing my boots were impenetrable to glass.

She lifted her head and stared ahead of her. "Guy look."

I looked to where her eyes were as I finished clearing the path.

It was stunning.

*Mildred POV*

I stared ahead of me. The window had shattered, not just enough for us to escape, but it was gone. The force of his throw smashed it off the burning building. I called over to him, "Guy look!"

He turned his head, "Perfect."

I rose myself up on my elbows. No glass was in sight near me. It was shoveled against the wall across from where I was. "What next?' I asked.

"Well we don't have much time until the fire spreads to here, so we get ourselves out."

"By _jumping_?" I asked horrified.

"It's the only way. Come here," he said. I stood and walked over. I looked down. We must be fifteen feet up. "Don't look down. And trust me, I won't let anything happen. Close your eyes."

He secured his hold on me. I responded by locking a would-be-death grip around his neck. He then jumped as I shut my eyes.

The wind whipped at my hair as I felt us falling. With my eyes shut, it was scary. But with Guy's hold on me as firm as he could get it, I felt safe. Or did I feel braver?

Maybe I felt both at once.

I felt us hit solid ground then. He had my head tucked beneath his chin to protect it from force of impact. He let it go gently and helped me to my feet. I looked in front of me. The firehouse was engulfed in flames. I recognized the strong scent of kerosene.

"What now?" I asked looking at Guy.

"Well, we've taken the first step. Now we figure out the next.'

"Do you know what that is?' UI asked.

"I honestly do not have a clue."

"Well I'm sure Faber gave us enough information to help us figure it out."

"And so we will."

"And so we will," I repeated as he led me away from the firehouse in flames towards our journey of rebuilding a broken society.

_To fight fire, you fight with fire. When the fire reaches 451 degrees Fahrenheit, everything goes aflame. But better things rise from charred ashes._

Society would rise again, only stronger.

*Montag POV*

The war began.

As ferocious as any war it was. Firemen were the ones who were fought against, not with. As for me, I kept a very low profile. After throwing the helmet in order to break the glass to escape the burning firehouse, I no longer considered myself one of them.

I was my own man now.

The only thing that kept me going was Mildred. I needed to ensure she was safe. My only vulnerability at this point was her. If they killed her, they might as well have killed me.

On the day after the skirmish that resulted in the war's outbreak, the sun rose high in the morning. I checked on Mildred, who still lay in my arms where she'd collapsed only mere hours ago. Occasionally I'd hear her say in sleep "_they burn at Fahrenheit 451_" which, to me, indicated that the events of last night were still haunting her.

I tighten my hold on her every time that phrase slips from her lips. I wonder if she knows how I'm still haunted by the irony of last night's events. As I lay unable to sleep last night, a realization crashed over me.

_Beatty wanted to die. He wanted me to be provoked into killing him, or in this case, setting the fire that killed him and hence starting the war!_

_Did Faber know that?_

Well if he did, what did it matter? He was gone now; his purpose was served in his eyes. Honestly, I could not bring myself to resent his choice. He had helped mold me into who I now was.

Mildred stirred. Her eyes flickered open. "I had the worst dream," she said.

"What was that?" I asked.

"The house burned, I was captured and taken to the firehouse. I was thrown into a dark cell…" her voice sounded very young.

"Shh…" I quieted her.

"It wasn't real, was it Guy?" she asked me, her eyes locked on mine.

_What do I tell her? A comforting lie or the horrid truth? Well Mildred was strong, so she could take it._

"Yes, honey. It was real, but it won't ever happen again. I won't let it."

"I know you won't."

*Mildred POV*

Surprisingly, the war didn't reach us. Not today.

Today, Clara and Linda made their way over to the hotel we were at. "Mildred, what happened to your house?" Clara asked.

"Burned by accident," I lied.

"However will we watch the shows without your wonderful three panel television?" Linda asked mystified.

"Can't you guys watch it at your homes?"

"Well yes, but don't you have that part on the sitcom they sent you the script for?"

"Not anymore, I gave up on them."

"_Why?"_ They looked at each other.

"I found that I don't want to live like that anymore. It's not that fun living in a robotic state," I said.

"But what about the family?" Clara asked.

"They're just characters in a show. They aren't real."

"God Mildred is this what a house fire does to you?" Linda asked.

"Yes," I looked over to see Guy standing at the suite's door, "I suppose it is."

"Well, we hate to cut our visit short but we need to get going or else we'll miss President Noble's speech. It's to be televised," Linda explained.

"Oh I can't wait!" Clara's eyes sparkle like those of a teenage girl in the midst of first love.

"Would you like to come Mildred?" Linda asked.

"Thank you for the offer, but I have other plans. So long," I said as Guy and I opened the door to see them out. I waved as I watched them walk down the hall.

"What are your plans?" Guy asked curiously.

"How would you like to go have lunch down at the restaurant downstairs?"

He took my fingers in his and gavwe a small squeeze. "It would be my only pleasure."

"Off we go then."

*Montag POV*

The war did come to us, as I'd thought and feared.

I woke on the day after we had Mildred's friends visit. Mildred was already up before me. She was putting her hair in a neat knot behind her head. "You up?"

"Yes. What are you all dressed for?"

"Oh, just in case we have to run because they come looking for a fugitive, you."

I heard a pound on the door. It was a loud banging sound, as if the door was being forced down. Then I knew why Mildred was dressed. They were here.

I threw my body off the hotel room bed and threw on the nearest clothes I could find that would be suitable to escape in. There was another bang.

"We're done for!" Mildred cried.

"Oh no were not!" I called. I saw a vase on the bedside table and suddenly it came to me what must be done. "Duck!" I called to Mildred.

She covered her head as I stepped back, gathered all my strength for a split second, stepped forward and launched the vase at the window. It was smaller than my helmet, but I hoped it'd suffice. After hearing the shattering, I lifted my head once again from where I'd ducked.

The glass was perfectly broken in half.

I told Mildred all was clear as another very forceful bang came to our ears via the door. "We have to go!" she said.

"Come on, this way!"

"But the railing-"she was cut off by a deafening thud.

"I'll burn it." Good thing firemen always kept spare matches.

"Will it burn in a fire caused by matches alone?"

"It should. Stand behind me," and she moved behind my shoulder as my hands lit the match in the blink of an eye. There was a pound again.

The rail hiolding us up roared up in flames. The orange light was blinding in the dimness of dawn. "Hold on,' I said taking Mildred in my arms as the metal slowly melted in the heat of the flame.

_Pound!_

I did not hesitate as I flung us off the balcony.

*Mildred POV*

I was falling.

Falling fast as the wind whipped at my hair. Falling so fast I had to shut my eyes, for the speed at which we were heading for the ground hurt to watch. I felt our speed increase as we neared touchdown. My hold around Guy's neck tightened. I felt him tuck my head underneath his chin to prepare for impact.

The scent of kerosene filled the city.

We hit the ground. I opened my eyes. The hotel was still as it'd been, but I knew it'd be up in flames soon. "What now?" I asked.

"We're leaving."

"To go…?"

"To a place I once heard of. It's a river on the city's outskirts.'

"Okay," I said.

"Do you want to walk or would you like me to carry you?" I could bet my television (if it hadn't been burned already) that my legs could not work properly yet.

"Can you carry me?"

"Of course."

**EPILOUGE**

*Faber POV*

The city was sunny when the train came to a stop. It was sunnier than I'd last seen it seven years ago. That meant only one thing.

Montag had defeated the evils of his society.

I disembarked from the train and I found Montag standing on the platform with an arm around Mildred. They smiled as they saw me.

"When has it been so light here?" I asked making my way over.

"About seven years ago when Guy restored society to its former glory," Mildred said and smiled.

"Well, both of you helped. I can't take all the credit." Montag smiled.

"If only Clarisse was here. She'd be proud." Mildred looked down.

"I'm sure she is proud knowing that she opened the eyes of many, if not us, to the ills of the former society."

"I guess you're right." A smile went around.

"And the firehouse?" I asked Montag.

"Burned, later rebuilt after the firemen reformed to putting out fires."

"Good to hear it. And your house?"

"Rebuilt just the way it was."

"Good." They seemed to be making way after the reformation.

"So, who wants to go for lunch? I'm starved," Mildred said.

"I could go for a sandwich. Faber?"

I grinned at them both, "As long as you both tell me everything I missed."

"Deal," Montag said and we shook hands. Mildred led us to the car.

All is well that ends well, especially when things began so bleak but one person rises to defeat the darkness.


End file.
